"Drink your milk, Hasan, dear. You're already late for school." Saana approached her seven-year-old son, who sat on the couch, eyes glued to the television. His fingers gripped the PS5 controller, his body shifting as if he could will his character to move faster.5 year old Harun had been sitting beside Hasan was cheering for his older brother as he played. Harun was the youngest among them all. Suddenly, Saana dashed over and snatched the controller from Hasan's hands."Drink your milk and get ready for school," she snapped, glaring at him. "And you too, Harun, get moving. I need to drop you off at nursery."Hasan's shoulders slumped as he realized he was on the brink of winning the game. But he silently reached for the glass of milk and drank it.At the breakfast table, Samia, Hamin, and Safia were already eating. Saana rushed over to Safia, frantically trying to tame her daughter's messy hair."Mom, slow down, that hurts," Safia complained, pulling her hand away from her mother's."I'm sorry, sweetheart," Saana cooed, softening her touch. "How about a ponytail?" Safia asked again, as her mother started to braid her hair."Alright, whatever you want." Saana sighed and tied her daughter's hair into a neat ponytail. She set the comb down on the table just as Samia, the eldest, stood up, phone pressed to her ear as she chatted with her best friend, Minnie."Mom, I'm leaving now," Samia said, grabbing her bag. "Allah hafiz."Saana gave her a look of mild disapproval. "Don't forget your tiffin, Samia. You'll be starving if you don't take it.""Oh, she'll just grab something from the canteen," Hamin teased, a smirk on his face. "Unless she wants to spend the next 24 hours locked in the bathroom because she can't handle outside food.""Mom, listen to him!" Samia whined, glaring at her brother. "He's always making fun of me, even in front of my friends.""Hamin, stop teasing your sister," Saana said, casting a stern glance at him."I'm just stating facts," Hamin chuckled, biting into his toast.Samia shot him a glare before walking over to her mother and hugging her tightly."Allah hafiz, Mama," she whispered.Saana kissed her forehead gently. "Allah hafiz, my love." The other kids followed suit, except for Harun, who lingered behind, too engrossed in his own world. The car was already waiting outside for the school run.Once they'd all left, Saana took a deep breath. Another busy day awaited. She got ready, ensuring the house was in order, and headed out to pick up Harun from nursery. She gave the maids their instructions, double-checking that everything would be spotless by the time she returned. As she started the car, she glanced at her watch and sighed. It was going to be another exhausting day.---Bibi, the housemaid, washed the dishes and tidied up. "I've already put the laundry in the machine, Sana. When it's done, just take it out."Saana nodded, slipping on her earrings and grabbing her purse. She was just about to leave when the door opened, and Hamza stepped inside. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, a smile forming on her lips."Assalamu alaikum. I wasn't expecting you back until tomorrow," she greeted him warmly."Walaikum assalam," Hamza replied, handing his coat and briefcase to the maid. "The deal closed sooner than expected, so I came back early. Are you heading out?""Yes, I'm just going to pick up Harun from nursery.""Let Aslam pick him up. I need to talk to you." His tone shifted suddenly, becoming cold, distant.Saana's steps faltered. Something in his voice unnerved her."I want a divorce, Saana."Her heart seemed to stop. The ground beneath her felt as if it had disappeared. She stood frozen, unable to move, unable to process the words that had just shattered her world. Hamza's voice continued, indifferent and calm."' I have fallen in love with someone else. And, I can never cheat on you. So, I have thought we should separate. Let's get a divorce. I am sorry."All eyes in the house turned toward them—Bibi stared in shock, her face creased with worry.Saana inhaled slowly, forcing herself to breathe, to steady the whirl of emotions threatening to consume her. "I won't divorce you," she said quietly, her voice steady, despite the storm raging inside her. "But you can marry again. I have no objections. And you don't need to apologize."She didn't look back at him. Without another word, she walked away, leaving Hamza standing there, stunned. He hadn't expected it to be so easy. And yet, something inside him twisted, a pang of guilt and confusion. He removed his cufflinks and retreated to his bedroom.---The children were thrilled when Hamza returned home from his trip, gathering around him in the hall, bombarding him with stories. Saana remained in the kitchen, stirring a pot of curry while Bibi watched her closely, concern etched into her face."Saana, what are you doing?" Bibi whispered. "How can you act like nothing has happened? How can you let him marry again? This isn't right.""Bibi, pass me the salt," Saana said calmly, tasting the curry."Saana!" Bibi's voice sharpened with frustration. "I'm talking to you. Hamza's lost his mind! You need to speak to him. Call Begum Apa, talk to someone! He can't just walk away like this. He can't leave you for another woman."But Saana seemed oblivious. She took the salt, sprinkled a pinch into the pot, stirred, and tasted again."Hmm... it's still missing something," she muttered, searching the spice rack.Bibi was on the verge of tears now. "Saana, please, listen to me. You need to fight for your marriage. Hamza isn't thinking straight. Maybe this other woman has cast a spell on him. Why else would he do this? You two are the perfect couple.""Yes, there it is," Saana said with a sudden burst of cheerfulness, ignoring Bibi's pleas. "It just needed a pinch of sugar."Bibi looked at her in disbelief. "Have you gone mad? Your husband wants to leave you, and you're happy about the taste of your curry?" She grabbed Saana by the arms, shaking her slightly. "How can you be okay with this? How can you permit him to marry someone else? I'm calling Apa Begum and Amzad Sahib. They'll talk some sense into him—and you."Before Bibi could continue, they both heard the sharp sound of glass breaking. They turned to see Samia standing near the counter, eyes wide, her face pale. A shattered glass lay at her feet.Samia's expression hardened. Her eyes filled with a mixture of shock and rage. Without a word, she stormed into the hall, marching straight up to her father."How could you, Dad? How could you even think about doing this to Mom?" Her voice trembled with anger, and her breathing came fast and shallow.Hamza looked up, surprised at her outburst. Little Harun sat on his lap, while Hamin, Hasan, and Safia gathered around, all equally confused. The room fell silent as the tension hung in the air. The children had never seen Samia raise her voice at their father.Samia's eyes brimmed with tears. She hadn't cried like this in years, not since she'd decided that, as the eldest, she had to be the strong one. But now, her voice cracked, and the tears flowed freely. "How could you even think about leaving Mom? How could you do this to us?"The other children grew uneasy, their confusion turning to anxiety. Hamin's face tightened as he turned to his father, his voice sharp. "What's she talking about, Baba?"Safia looked between her parents, fear creeping into her young eyes. Harun and Hasan, too young to fully grasp the situation, simply watched in silence.Saana followed her daughter into the room, her face stern. "You two, mind your manners when you talk to your father," she scolded.But no one listened. All eyes were on Hamza, waiting for an explanation.Hamza took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, children," he said softly.Before he could say more, Saana stepped forward, her voice firm. "We're not getting divorced," she declared.Samia wiped her tears angrily, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh, right. No divorce. Just a second wife.""What?" Hamin's voice cracked as he turned to his mother. "How could you agree to this, Mom? Why?"Suddenly, the weight of the moment pressed down on everyone in the room. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, as they all waited for an answer that none of them were ready to hear.-------Hamza's parents sat in the hall, their expressions tense and heavy with unspoken judgment. Across from them, Saana's parents huddled close to the children, their faces clouded with concern. The air was thick with unvoiced accusations.Hamza, unable to meet anyone's gaze, fixed his eyes on the framed photograph hanging on the wall. It was a view from the top of a hill, the sun setting low over the horizon. He felt a sharp pang in his chest as he remembered the day that photo was taken—a moment from his honeymoon that had once felt eternal.He saw them, a younger version of himself and Saana, standing at the top of that hill. Her expression had been one of surprise, lips parted in shock, while he grinned mischievously. Just before the camera clicked, he had leaned in and kissed her cheek, catching her off guard. Her honey-colored skin had flushed a soft pink, and she had playfully smacked his shoulder, whispering, "We're in public! Take the picture of the view, not me." He had laughed, snapping the photo, the memory forever captured in that sunset. The photograph was beautiful, yes—but the memory? That had been priceless. Now, it felt impossibly distant, as though it belonged to another life, another man."You've shamed us, Hamza," his mother, Naaz Begum, cut through the silence, her voice trembling with restrained fury. "Do you even realize that I couldn't bring myself to look at Saana or her parents today? Do you know what it feels like to sit here and explain why my son, after seventeen years of marriage, suddenly wants a divorce? For what, Hamza? What happened to you? Bibi told me you've fallen in love with someone else. Is that true?"Beside her, Amzad Hossain, Hamza's father, sat still, his face etched with quiet disappointment. He said nothing but his silence felt heavier than any words.Hamza forced himself to speak, his voice measured but devoid of warmth. "I don't love Saana anymore. There's nothing left between us."His mother's lips tightened. "Don't speak like a child, Hamza. What do you mean, 'there's nothing left'? You have five children together. Is that not enough for you?"Hamza swallowed, his throat dry. "No," he said simply, his tone unnervingly calm. "It's not enough."Just then, Saana entered the room, balancing a tray of snacks and tea. Her entrance startled Hamza more than he wanted to admit. He avoided her gaze, suddenly ashamed, focusing instead on his hands, which were now clammy. The room seemed to still, the clink of cups on saucers the only sound as Saana quietly served tea.Behind her, Saana's parents, Amir Ali and Amna Khan, followed, their faces drawn with worry. They sat down but kept their eyes on Hamza, as if searching for some explanation, some reason that would make sense of all this.Naaz Begum was the first to break the silence again. "Saana," she said, watching Saana's every move. "What am I hearing? You've given him permission to marry someone else? Have you both lost your minds?"Before Saana could respond, her mother, Amna, interjected, her voice brimming with indignation. "And what was my daughter supposed to do, Naaz? Your son stood there and told her, in front of us all, that he wants a divorce because he's fallen in love with someone else. What choice did she have? After seventeen years of raising his children, he suddenly doesn't love her anymore? Seventeen years, Naaz! Seventeen years of giving herself to him, and this is how it ends?" Amna's gaze shifted to Hamza, her eyes burning with disbelief. "You realized it rather late, don't you think, Hamza?"Hamza's ears burned with shame. He could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the floor."Mom, please, stop," Saana finally said, her voice soft but firm as she handed her mother a cup of tea. "There's no need for this."Naaz Begum wasn't so easily deterred. "No, Saana, your mother's right. Seventeen years, and now he decides he doesn't love you? And not only that—he's planning to marry another woman. I won't stand for it. No one in our family has ever taken a second wife, and I won't let Hamza start that trend now."Saana set the last cup down and quietly sat on the sofa. The tray of untouched snacks remained in front of them, the tea growing cold. No one had the appetite for food or drink.Saana's eyes fell to her wedding ring, and absentmindedly, she began to twist it around her finger. The gold felt foreign now, like a relic of a life she no longer recognized."If he wants to marry someone else, let him," she said suddenly, her voice startlingly calm, cutting through the tense air. "I have no objections. But I don't want a divorce."The room fell into an eerie silence.Naaz Begum stared at her in disbelief. "What's wrong with you, Saana? You should be fighting for your marriage, not encouraging him to do something so reckless!"Before Saana could reply, her mother stood, her face flushed with anger. "No, Saana," Amna said, her voice hard. "Why should you fight for a man who doesn't respect you? If he wants a divorce, give it to him. Don't cling to someone who doesn't even see your worth. You have your children, you have us. You don't need him."Naaz Begum shot to her feet, her voice rising. "Amena, how can you say that? We shouldn't be encouraging them to make such a terrible mistake.""Then why don't you talk to your son, Naaz? He's the one who's made up his mind." Amna's voice was cold, unyielding. The tension between the two women seemed ready to boil over.Saana's calm voice sliced through the argument. "Enough." She stood up slowly, her face composed but pale. "Mom, Dad, Uncle, Auntie—I've made up my mind. I won't stand in Hamza's way. And I expect the same from all of you."Her mother gaped at her in disbelief. "Saana, have you lost your mind? You're just going to let this happen?"Amir Ali, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. His voice was steady, measured. "Whatever you decide, Saana, I'm with you." He glanced at his wife, then back at Saana, offering her a sad smile.Saana returned the smile, her heart aching with gratitude and grief all at once. Hamza, sitting on the other side of the room, couldn't bring himself to look at anyone.---The next two weeks felt like someone had died. Inside the house, there was almost no sound. Hamin and Samia locked themselves in their rooms. Safia, Harun, and Hasan stayed close to their mother. Safia and Hasan kept asking her if their father was going to leave them. Every time, Sana would cradle them with a smile and say, "Nothing like that will happen."Hamza, however, left the house early every morning and returned late at night.He thought tonight would be the same—that no one would be awake when he got home. But when he walked in, he saw Sana sitting at the dining table with a cup in her hand.It was tea. Of course, it was tea. She hated coffee. But in the early days of their marriage, she used to make coffee for both of them because he liked it. And even though she brewed it for him, he never drank from his own mug. Instead, he would always take her cup after she'd taken a sip, pressing his lips to the same spot where hers had been.A sudden memory flickered in his mind—Sana eating ice cream one afternoon. He had stolen a bite from her spoon and placed the same spoon back in her hand. She had scowled at him, annoyed.He had laughed, laying his head in her lap and grinning mischievously. "What? Don't you know it's sunnah?"Sana had shaken her head, turning her face to the side to hide her smile. But he had known—it was there. And for him, that smile was everything. He lived for it.But those moments were only memories now. Fragments of a life that felt like it had slipped through his fingers.Sana lifted her eyes from her tea and looked at him. She greeted him with a gentle smile. "Assalamu alaikum."Hamza returned the smile, though it was small and tired. "Wa alaikumus salam. Why are you still up so late?""I wanted to talk to you," she said quietly."About what?" Hamza asked, rolling up his sleeves. He walked over to the dining table and reached for a chair to sit down.Just as his hand touched the back of the chair, Sana's soft voice stopped him in his tracks."When are you going to get married?"Hamza froze, his hand still on the chair. He looked at her, trying to read her expression. But her face remained calm, her eyes steady."We haven't decided yet," he replied slowly. The air between them grew heavy with silence, thick and oppressive."I've decided to move back to our old house," Sana said suddenly, breaking the quiet.Hamza, who had been staring at the table, snapped his gaze back to her, disbelief written across his face."You can stay here with your new wife," Sana continued, taking a sip of her tea. Her voice was measured, calm, but distant—like she had already made peace with her decision. "The kids are angry right now, so they probably won't talk to you for a while. But eventually, they'll come around. And after some time passes, you can visit them at the old house."She stared down at her tea, as if searching for answers in the swirling reflection on the surface. But the reflection remained unclear."Why don't you just divorce me, Sana?" Hamza asked quietly. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he hated the words even as he said them.He lowered his gaze, staring at his reflection in the glass table. The sight of himself filled him with shame. He didn't like the man he saw there."Do you hate me that much, Hamza?" Sana's voice was soft, trembling slightly, but she kept her composure."I don't hate you," Hamza murmured. "I just don't love you anymore."Sana's breath hitched, but she kept her expression steady. She looked down at her hands. "I don't want a divorce, Hamza. I just don't want it."She could feel the tears threatening to fall, but she fought them back with every ounce of strength she had. She wanted to scream, to tell him everything she had kept locked inside.Hamza, maybe you don't love me anymore, but I only love you. What am I supposed to do with a divorce?But the words remained trapped in her heart, too heavy to say aloud.Before the tears could escape, she stood abruptly, placing the cup in the sink with a soft clink. Without looking back, she started toward her room. "I'll leave the house next week," she said, her voice flat. "You'll only have to put up with me for a few more days."A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she stepped into the hallway. She wiped it away quickly, refusing to let him see.Hamza stood alone in the dimly lit hall, rooted to the spot, staring after her. He wanted to go after her, to stop her somehow. She was only a few steps away—but those few steps felt like years of distance between them. Years of silence, misunderstandings, and missed chances.---------And just like that, she was gone. The empty house seemed to echo the sound of her footsteps, leaving Hamza standing in the dark, paralyzed by the weight of everything left unsaid.---Four days later, Saana moved back to their old house. The decision wasn't entirely hers; Hamin and Samia had refused to stay in the same house as their father after Hamin had seen Hamza with a young woman at a restaurant. The boy had been out with friends, trying to cheer himself up, but when he spotted his father with the other woman, his world shattered. He hadn't made a scene, but when he returned home, he told Saana in no uncertain terms that he would no longer live under the same roof as his father. Samia stood firmly by his side.It had taken Saana three hours to persuade them to stay in the house for just three more days. Three agonizing days.When they finally moved out, Saana's father helped them settle into the old house, nestled in the hills. It was a beautiful, peaceful place, and the younger children ran around on the lawn, playing and laughing as if nothing had changed.Samia and Hamin, however, remained glued to their phones, one endlessly texting, the other lost in video games, trying to escape the reality that weighed them down.For a moment, everything felt normal—if only on the surface.---Hamza returned home early that evening, unable to focus on work. The servant Dulu mIa, greeted him at the door and took his suitcase."Where is everyone?" he asked, glancing around the empty house.Dulu Mia hesitated, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Sir, Madam already moved out with the children. Did you forget?"Hamza's hand stilled as he reached to remove his cufflinks. He had forgotten. Or maybe he hadn't allowed himself to believe it could really happen.She was gone."Was it really that easy for her to leave me?" he thought, a sinking feeling in his chest.Without a word, he turned and headed toward the bedroom. The room was the same as ever—everything in its place, undisturbed. But the silence was deafening.It had been over a year since Saana had slept in this room with him. At first, she had moved to Harun's room during the nights Hamza worked late, and slowly, sleeping in different rooms became their unspoken routine. Hamza had been too busy trying to salvage his failing business, and Saana too absorbed with raising their five children, for either of them to notice how far apart they had drifted.Now, the distance seemed unbridgeable.Hamza sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging low between his shoulders. The weight of everything—his choices, his mistakes, the life he had once shared with Saana—pressed down on him, suffocating and relentless.---------